Edduficayshun...

Interesting Lessons I am learning whilst in Washingon, of both the Profound and Less Profound sort:

1. Mature sentiment and by-the-seat-of-your-pants passion/emotion are such funny creatures, in the sense that we seem mix them up a very lot. (Maybe we even long for mature sentiment and think we feel it so many times that when we truly achieve it we don't notice it for a while...)
2. It actually does get hot in Washington. Right now, it's 83 degrees INSIDE the house...:P
3. Choosing a college is a harder decision than I thought. Darn.
4. I am slowly learning where everything goes in the kitchen. Pots on the lazy susan, potatoes in the pantry...(We never even had a pantry in California! O, woe for lack of culinary education...)
5. God is quite in control of things, and I believe He finds well-warranted amusement and joy in showing us exactly how true that is.
6. Switchfoot is beyond cool. (In the good way, of course. :)
7. Perhaps the most difficult thing about moving to Washington is, as one gets to know new and very nice people, remembering to keep in touch with the equally wonderful comrades back home. (Please forgive me if you are in the oft-uncontacted; I would love to hear from you and it would help me greatly if you reminded me that I should email/call!)

Last, but definitely not least:
8. Never attempt the Bottle Dance from Fiddler on the Roof in barefeet, and especially not on carpet in barefeet. Unless you are particularly fond of rugburns.

Much love,
Danielle

Adventures in the Sunshine State

Here is a summary of my trip thus far!

Favorite Food Eaten:
Definitely strawberries, which are much less expensive here than in Washington.

Most Interesting Experiences:
Getting Sun Rash. (It's like an itchy sunburn. *scratch scratch*. Curse you, extremely white origins!). Oh yeah, and having a middle-aged surfer dude ask me where Mayport Beach was, and being later surprised to find that I was not, in fact, 20 years old.

Favorite Place Visited:
St. Augustine! :D :D :D It is a beautiful little town by the beach that has tons of interesting and varied shops. How can you go wrong with a city named after such a cool person?

Least Favorite Place Visited:
Texas. On our layover. (To be fair, it WAS only the airport, so I didn't actually see any of non-overpopulated-disgusting-building-with-loud-planes Texas.)

Favorite Quote:
"It's like ballroom dancing for your mouth!"
-Mr. Pizza Advertiser Man on the glories of his wares.

Favorite Souvenir:
A book of Aesop's Fables, Grimm's and Andersen's fairy tales.

Words of Wisdom:
-The evolution of women's swimwear is unfallible evidence of global warming.
-Wear sunscreen. Especially if the closest thing you can get to a tan is a faded sunburn.
-If you don't like airplane lavatories, politely decline their "complimentary beverage".
-Pools are for swimming in, not tanning by. (I HATE when people just sit by the pool and tan without swimming!!! IT'S SO ANNOYING!!! But then, maybe it's because I just can't tan...)
-Go to Washington, then go to Florida and feel how different 47 degrees is from 92! :D

I miss you all and hope you are well! Don't forget to lather on that sunscreen, my lovely friends of Dutch, Norwegian, English and generally White origin! :)

Summer Reading List 2008!

Yay for lots of books! Here we go...

"Grant me, O Lord, to know and understand which should come first, prayer or praise; or, indeed, whether knowledge should precede prayer. For how can one pray to you unless one knows you? If one does not know you, one may pray not to you you, but to something else. Or is it rather the case that we should pray to you in order that we may come to know you?" -The Confessions of St. Augustine,by Augustine, in a vivid contemporary translation by Rex Warner!

(Curiousity may have killed the cat, but it seems to have taken Augustine on quite the adventure! Everybody should listen to the Switchfoot song about Augustine, by the way...can't remember what it's called right now...)

"The day was now departing; the dark air released the living beings of the earth from work and weariness; and I myself alone prepared to undergo the battle both of the journeying and of the pity, which memory, mistaking not, shall show."
-Inferno, by Dante Alighieri, in a verse translation by Allen Mandelbaum!

(In intense agreement with Mr. Choo, who inspired the reading of this particular book, all I can say is: Dante Rocks!. You can tell how eloquent I've become since moving away from Torrey, eh?)

"Had there been a Papist among the crowd of Puritans, he might have seen in this beautiful woman...with the infant at her bosom...an object to remind him of the image of Divine Maternity [and] only by contrast, of that sacred image of sinless motherhood, whose infant was to redeem the world. Here, there was the taint of deepest sin in the most sacred quality of human life, working such effect, that the world was only the darker for this woman's beauty, and the more lost for the infant she had borne."-The Scarlet Letter, by Nathaniel Hawthorne.

(Oh, sad, sad book...Hawthorne has a way of describing things so vividly that it sends veritable pangs through one's heart.)

"[Raoul] was now twenty-one and looked eighteen. He had a little blond mustache, attractive blue eyes, and a girlish [personality, I mean] complexion." -The Phantom of the Opera, by Gaston Leroux.

(Yup, that about sums it up.)

I'll probably be able to finish all of these on our two-week trip to Florida. Which starts tomorrow morning. At three. In the morning. Which is the problem with living in a small town, because the nearest commercial airport is 100 miles away in Seattle. Oh well. Anyways, yay for good and interesting books! What are your summer plans/books, friends?

*gaspeth* A (filler) Poste!

(Blarney walks in the room. The computer is ironically turned on to Blogger. It speaks.)

Blog (very, very irritatedly): WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME?

Blarney (stares in awe at shiny computer screen): Um. You speak. -Eth.

Blog: KNOWETH THAT THY DOOM SHALT COME, O INSOLENT AIRHEAD, LEST YE MENDETH THY WAYS AND RETURNETH TO THE LAND OF PERSEVERANT BLOGGERS. BLOG, AND YE SHALT BE SAVED. (pronounced "save-ed", by the way).

Blarney: Er, okay.

Blog: I MEANETH IT.

Blarney: I believeth it.

Blog: BE QUIET.

Blarney: Then how am I supposed to blog? Should I mend my ways or zip the lips?

Blog: JUST DO IT.

Blarney: Which one?

Blog: ...

**************

Hi everybody! Apparently incarnate blogs speak in improper Olde English, but maybe that's just mine. Sorry I haven't done anything for a long time.

...

Ahem. COMING UP SOON in the land of Miscellany and Etcetera!

Not by the Fur of My Chinny-Chin-Chilla:

"Allow me to introduce myself. I, Eliot, am a gentle-chinchilla, and a rather smashingly good one at that. Never shall you see me at a loss for masterful small-talk, in need of an extra or unrumpled handkerchief, or dressed in anything but what is befitting a rodent of my rank.

I am also a poet. Or rather, I take on the appearance of one. In actuality, I am a spy.

But you would never betray a poetic gentle-chinchilla-spy (not to mention one on the good side) for what he truly is, now, would you?"

OOH! A story! Yay! And yes, I did spoof T.S. Eliot into a chinchilla. (Poetic license, if you'll pardon the pun.) It's an epic tale full of romance, adventure, and rodents who enjoy quoting The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.

Aha. Um. Goodnight. :) I miss you all!

Caput, Cor, Manus.

The head which laughed in infant glee,
The head which held the mind of God,
The head betrayed by traitor's kiss,
The head which bore both thorn and rod...
It lives in truth, now hangs in pain
And bears the weight of God's disdain.

The heart which hurt for king and slave,
The heart which felt each hope and fear,
The heart which wept at silent grave,
The heart which freely took the spear...
It aches for truth and lives in grace,
Worthy alone to see God's face.

The hand which grasped both cloth and hay.
the hand which touched the blind to see,
The hands which, broken, broke the bread
The hands, pierced, to set men free...
They, firm and soft, forever prove
The paradox of truth and love.

He who was Great became the least
Became for us the highest Priest
He who, alike, was Lord and man
Showed to us His head, heart and hand.

-Danielle

Pictahs!

I think I said I'd post pictures a long time ago, but now I'm actually going to. :) (I probably accidentally convicted myself with the previous blog post; I am acting on my word! ;D)

This is the epically disturbing Danielle attempting to catch snowflakes. It didn't work.


Oui! It is Columbus! Random fact: Did you know that, in Latin, the word "pigeon" is "Columba"? Thus the name Columbus...:)


This is the Sugar Bomb of Death cake. Made especially for my mom's birthday by my artistic siblings and I.


You know, we saw a hobbit scurry out of here, but he came and went so fast that the camera could quite catch it...;)


We have confirmed that there ARE meese in Washington!


Apparently there are also assassins in WA?! (Actually, my brother just conveniently has a black machete with which to be emo...*pats murderous little fellow*)


This is in the treehouse which is on our property! It is a brilliant treehouse. I claim no relation to the kid in the picture, by the way...:)

Thanks, as always, for reading/looking! And with that, I bid you adieu.

Fin.

Talks-a-lot...

Talkative.

Verbose.

Eloquent.

Articulate.

Looooooooooooooooooong-winded.

What do all of these words have in common? Two things: 1) They basically mean "motor-mouthy", and 2) I had to look at the thesaurus to get most of them. :)

Effusive.

Garrulous.

Wordy.

You know, as Americans, I think we talk a lot. Perhaps it has a lot to do with our democratic tendencies, both in and out of government. "All men are created" (or evolved, as the case may be) equal, thus everybody's opinion is worth something, right? Or at least, every man's opinion is equally worthy.

Expansive.

Unreserved.

Gushing.

But I wonder if, as Americans, we take advantage of that. Maybe we just keep talking, and talking, and talking...

Because society has determined that whatever pops into your head is okay to voice.

Perhaps that wouldn't be so bad, if all our actions followed through with our many words. But if we talk a lot...

...That's a LOT of actions to keep track of.

Open.

Forthcoming.

Ear-banging.

And I also wonder if we, as American Christians, have forgotten the art of thinking before saying. That phrase is often said as "think before you act"...

But shouldn't we strive to be, and to act, as good as our word?

This whole incoherent pile of thoughts came to me in church this morning. Our pastor went over the passage in John where Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead.

He raises Lazarus from the dead. How? He speaks. Not only does he accomplish the feat which scientists and spiritualists alike have attempted since death was invented...

He does it by talking. Jesus' actions are as good as his words. Jesus' words are as good as his actions.

Jesus' actions are his words, and his words are his actions. He is the Word.

Thoughtful.

Meditative.

Discerning.

In a world of virtual reality, where email and chatspeak abound, and TV is often considered "family time" (though getting 6 people to agree on what to watch simultaneously is a victory in itself)...

In a world of virtual reality, where our standard of beauty often amounts to pretty people being digitally airbrushed into impossible glamour...

In a world of virtual reality, where truth is relative and love is sending the letters "ILU!" over the phone or computer...

I am so glad we have Jesus. I am so glad Jesus has us, actually.

I am so glad that Jesus is so eloquent that no one could ever speak as well as he does, and is yet so simple that everyone can understand him. He is the Word, after all. His standard of excellence is not belied by the depth of his love, nor is his grace forsaken for his truth.

I am so glad that Jesus cares about what he says to me. I am so glad that Jesus cares about what he does to me.

I want to be like Jesus.

(This was a really long post! Thanks for reading it all the way through, everyone! :S)

The Top Best 10 Things in the World

You've heard of the Eight Wonders of the World, correct? Well, here is a list compiled with the utmost accuracy and care; composed only after the author had thought for at the very least 2.5 seconds about each and every number...

With that stirring and awe-inspiring introdcution, I present to you

THE TOP BEST 10 THINGS IN THE WORLD (at least, according to D. E. Peterson)

Let's save the best for last and start with 10!

10. Coffee! Especially when it's really cheap, and even when it's really expensive. :D
9. Goodness!
8. Truth!
7. Beauty! :D (Oh my!)
6. Chinchillas! Especially because they are fluffy!
5. Homeschooling! Especially because it means that we can take Torrey! (And be super-nerds...)
4. Siblings! Especially when they are your fellow sufferers and adventurers in movingness. *pats indignant children on the head*
3. Parents! Especially because they are patient, kind and loving beings who care for you no matter what state/country you're in.
2. Books! Especially such tomes as Lord of the Rings, Anna Karenina, Democracy in America (there, I have officially expressed my nerdiness), and (though I hope it's already obvious) the Bible. I really, really like the Bible. Especially when I read it. :P :)

And the final, the marvelous, the shocking, the glorious, the last but not least...

1.

#1 is...

Friends. Especially when they are nothing else but friends, because that is what they are. (Okay, that was either really cheesy or really badly structured, grammatically. Or both. Thank goodness friends look past my faults!)

So, to all those who are my friends, or who are anyone's friends...

Thanks for being the #1 thing in my world!

(Now copy and paste this into an e-mail and forward it to all your friends or all your coffee will be lukewarm from the moment you decide to disobey. :)

Hah. Just kidding. Maybe I should make a "Top WORST Things in the World" list, with those kinds of forwards as Ultra #1? ;)

The Emo Poem of a Coffee-Deprived College Poet

Drip, drip, drip.

The lazy drops descend on the metal roof of the Cafe. A fluorescent sign flickers, reminding the uncaring world of the hole-in-the-wall's quiet existence. Quiet, at least, until it happened. IT, happened...

Poets, small, tall, great and lesser, gather at the Cafe each Saturday evening; the remnant of what once was a thriving, bustling restaurant. Some say it was the introduction of anything other than bland American food; others, that one waiter who kept mixing up orders and pouring mustard in people's cappucinos. The true doubters argue that it was the introduction of "Saturday Night Poetry Readings", but nobody really believes them. Whatever the cause, almost all faithful customers vanished...

Except for the poets. And that's not IT, either.

As on every Saturday night, the Faithful (as they deemed themselves) were there; contemplating. Thinking. Pondering. Dreaming. Occasionally, strokes of genius or epiphanies will hit, and poets will shout triumphantly their masterpieces.

"O, that I might be
Free from all that inhibits,
A rose unhindered"

"Where is the happiness?
I once
Had much. Now it's
Gone.
The whirlpool of
Desire is
Now the cause
Of my mire, now
A trickle. A Living Needle
In the haystack of
Darkness and Death. Can
I find it
Again?"

"I've found a rhyme for orange!"

"THE COFFEE'S GONE!!!!"

Wait. The poets turned slowly to the source of the voice; a frightened, hysterical waiter with braces and disheveled hair.

"It's gone! All of it! The Cappuccinos, the Frappucinos, the Lattes, the Java...THE COFFEE! All we have left is tea! Decaf tea!"

"It can't be gone!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!"
"What'll we do? How will we get our papers turned in? How will we ever compose poetry again?"

Silence. The full, black, terrible depth of their predicament strikes.

Silence. A pen drops and crashes on the unswept concrete floor.

Silence.

Slowly, he rises. One of the Faithful rises, a student ready to face the future. His deep, mournful voice resounds sorrowfully across the room.

"Coffee would be stronger than
The weak Tea that
Surrounds
My heart.
A Cappuccino warmer and
More empowering to my
Wretched soul.
O, alas;
The icy Earl Grey has
Swallowed whole
The sweet Caramel Latte
Of my Former self.
O, alas, the despair of
Decaf has emptied me
Strangled me
Drowned me.
Until I am nothing,
Nothing but a shell.
Shell of a coffee bean.
Husk of a coffee bean.
The cold, black bleak broken barren
Husk

Of

A

Bean."

Minimalism

I have really long posts.